


Jon is a grumpy man and so the universe found it Just and Right that he would become a teacher

by TheElementalForce



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: I hope it turns out good though, M/M, School, Spoilers for The Magnus Archives Season 5, Teacher Jon au, Teacher Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, This is my first time writing any fan fic, just tagging that because im not sure how spoilery it'll get, so like idk what to tag this with
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26002657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheElementalForce/pseuds/TheElementalForce
Summary: Jon and Martin move to a new town in the country, Jon gets a job as an english teacher, while Martin finds a small job at the local coffee shop. Turns out his students need his help a lot more than he could've expected, and not just with english.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 28
Kudos: 139





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> Uh yeah I haven't written fan fiction before, but I have written original stuff so it probably won't be a dumpster fire. Also this is assuming the apocalypse didn't happen, and Jon figured out a technicality which allowed him, Martin, and the others to essentially escape from the Magnus Institute. They still technically work there, but they have nothing to actually do with it's work or running anymore. This is just a first introduction thingie to see if anyone would like to actually read this.

The first day was always the hardest. This is what every new kid learned when they first joined a new school, no friends, no familiar teachers, just thrown into a brand new setting. This is also what Jonathan Sims learned, at every single job he was inevitably fired from. He'd escaped the Institute, fled with Martin before the Eye could realize the trick he'd pulled.

From then on he'd spent months trying to find a stable job. Martin and he would move to a new city, preferably a small one, they'd get jobs, Martin would enjoy his, Jon would last for a week or two before his history was found out, they'd move on. It's not like many business would like a scarred, cryptic, murder suspect, being in a public position. On one memorable occasion, in a small village near to the coast, Martin decided to stay behind, he'd found a great position at a bar, and had actually gotten promoted! their run there together was near the longest yet, 3 weeks of work and social life. By the time the library discovered Jon's' past, Martin had settled into a comfortable routine, and had even made friends; of course that wasn't much of a surprise, it was hard to imagine Martin going anywhere without making some sort of friend. Regardless, Martin had made enough of a life their, that he'd decided to stay behind, wait until Jon could find a stable job.

Surprisingly, or rather, unsurprisingly, the thing that drew them together again turned out to be Annabelle Cane. She dropped a hint to Martin that Jon had had a brush with the Hunt, and it took all of a day for Martin to show up halfway across the country outside Jon's apartment, bandages and a box of chocolates in hand. That night, while wrapping Jon's forearm in gauze, Martin made a promise, that he'd never leave Jon's side again.

That promise lead the two on a path across the entire uk, jumping from job to job, and on one memorable occasion accidentally straying into Russia. The winding path ended in a small town in Sweden. It wasn't even a planned stop, they had just so happened to stumble across an avatar of War in the middle of nowhere, and needed a place to run after escaping. 

They stumbled, covered in dirt, through the door of a small bed and breakfast and collapsed first thing onto what felt like the softest bed they'd ever experienced. They then took a break from all the running, fighting, hiding, firing, and decided to rent a small cottage near the edge of town.

They only planned on waiting for a week, maybe 2. But then, Martin made friends, found a job at the nicest coffee shop in town (He took the stance that it was nigh sacrilege against his tea skills, but there weren't any tea stores in town, so he had to settle for coffee. And hey, after he made Mary a cup of green tea, she relegated all the tea orders his way, so he could still utilize his brewing.) They ended up paying for the entire months rent, and they settled into a routine. The last straw that made it clear to Jon they would be staying there for a while, was the recent retirement of a teacher. It turned out that it is difficult to find appropriate certified teachers in the middle of nowhere, and Jon had less qualms about lying on his resume after having Mr. "Lies on his CV Martin Blackwood" as his partner for months.

All this lead to today. Jon's first day with students, no, not just students, _teenagers._


	2. The Problem Class (I.E. the cause of Jons declining sanity)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon has to greet his students, and ultimately fails at his goals straight out of the gate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if this chapter isn't the best, I've been kinda sick writing it so yea. Also I have no clue what kind of names are Swedish so really the only accurate one is Jonasson, sorry about that :P

The students walked into class with an all to familiar hunted look on their faces, reminding Jon far to much of the looks on those pursued by the hunt. He shook himself, these were not the faces of people plagued by _eldritch fear gods_ , they were the faces of sleep deprived, overworked, and under cared for teenagers. Jon wasn't sure which had it worse.

As the last few slid through the door, Jon turned to the chalk board, started to write out a large J, stopped, and wrote out Mr. Sims. He turned back to the class, seeing the expected blank stares from the students, wait, no. _His_ students. He was going to have to get used to that.

With a shaky hand, he took a sip from his thermos, a surprisingly large one nearly the size of his forearm, filled with some of Martin's best brew. He'd estimated it to last for the entire first day, a touch of comfort from home for when Jon felt out of place.

Less than an hour later he lifted it to his lips again and tasted nothing but the cold, disappointing, tea leaves at the bottom. 

* * *

It had gone well at first, well enough that was. He'd called attendance, resisting the urge to Know the names immediately, no one was missing, so he'd introduced himself. That was were the trouble began.

The instant he had called attention to his last name, a small chorus of gasps came from the back of the room, centered around the desk of one Marcy Jonasson.

"Ms. Jonasson, could you kindly quiet down." The chatter around her table quickly quieted, yet the looks on their faces were still just as star struck. Jon smiled at them, trying to calm their fears of yet another strict teacher, though the effect was more to the opposite, at least to all except around Marcy.

He introduced the curriculum to the class, telling them the planned course for the year. Most of the students wore the expected bored and uninterested faces, though surprisingly there were many who seemed genuinely interested in the lessons ahead.

With everything introduced, he moved on to the second half of this lesson, introductions. That may seem to be the opposite of how it should be structured, and Martin thought the same. Yet the mumbled explanation given from Jon, his face buried into a pillow in shame, was that he felt far more confident in knowledge and the planning, than in himself being able to withstand his students for a full 40 minutes. 

And yet, the planning seemed for naught. He'd expected the planning to have feed the Beholding, at least to some degree, but as he switched the slide his hand still trembled with anxiety. He turned to the class, taking a deep breath; odd, that, an avatar of the Eye, _the Archivist_ for christs sake. quivering under the insolent gaze of some 30 students.

Jon paused, words catching in his throat. He closed his eyes and breathed, inhale for 4 seconds, gold for 7, exhale for 8. A trick taught to him by Martin, way back when, before they'd even thought of being together, Jon had had a panic attack, after Prentiss' attack, Jon had sat him down in the hallway, calming him down.

Annnnnnd exhale.

"Alright class. Now, I suppose you must be wondering by now, you've been sat there for near 30 minutes, and the only thing you know about me is my last name. I suppose I should tell you a little more about me before we begin work." The group near Mrs. Jonasson visibly perked up, their eyes focused on Jon. "Firstly, I've just recently moved here, I just moved in about a month ago. Luckily, there just so happened to be an opening here, proving my English degree to be worth something after all!"

That was a lie, Jonathon Sims had absolutely no English degree whatsoever, of course, the Eye provided plenty of information and knowledge on the subject, enough to make the curriculum easy enough to make. However, Jon had wanted to be as authentic as possible, and, failing in his attempt at using his phone to figure out English teacher's common jokes, he had resorted to the near blasphemy that was using the great power of the Beholding to browse "memes", of course, Jon couldn't care less about blaspheming the Eye, and he took great satisfaction that Elias would know his atypical uses of the power. 

Despite the grim satisfaction Jon gained from spiting Elias, his knowledge of memes was shaky at best, regardless of Martins attempts to educate him, though what he gathered from his aided interpretations was that English teachers were a decidedly resigned lot, and self deprecating humor abounded. Jon was resigned to the knowledge that whether he liked it or not, Martin would absolutely coach him on proper "meme" etiquette.

"I suppose that's a good blanket starting point, now, I'll let you ask any questions you might have, and then we'll get started with the first chapter of to kill a mockingbird." Jon smiled, he'd done well! and if luck was in his favor they could move on into solo reading, letting him get a much needed break in. He should've known better; luck was never in his favor.

He nearly let slip a groan, as nearly every single student raised their hands. This was going to be a long class.

The first student he called on, one Aaron Smith, was apparently feeling bold, as his first question right out of the gate was a startling one. 

"Mr. Sims, are you a terrorist?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope ya liked it, sorry it's a bit short, I was going to make it longer but my brain just stopped wanting to write. The next chapter should be out in a bit, maybe slightly longer than this one!


	3. True Crime fans are such a pain. (especially when you may or may not have committed said crimes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon's class descends into chaos, as is given. Jon is even more confused, and it won't get much better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ack sorry for the late/short chapter, I lost all motivation to actually write recently, and i've got s t u f f going on. I'll probably come back to this later, but maybe don't expect anything within like a week or two, as school is starting up for me soon.

"Mr. Sims, are you a terrorist?"

Jon spluttered, unsure how to handle the brazen question.

"I-I'm sorry what? How- How is this relevant Aaron?" Jon was so taken aback he didn't even register that he had Known the boys name.

"Well you did say to ask questions, and that's my question!" The line was delivered entirely too happily for the question they were talking about.

"I see. Well, to answer your question, no. I am not a terrorist. Does anyone else have a question?" Jon muttered under his breath, "Hopefully something simple, maybe my favorite color, or what's the homework!"

Unfortunately for Jon, the next few questions would be anything but simple.

Rather than waiting for his turn again, a wise decision as Jon had decided to steer clear of him and his surrounding table, Aaron spoke up.

"I only ask because Marcy figures you are," He nodded his head back to Ms. Jonasson, her face growing red, "she thinks you blew up a building of some kind." He said this with the matter of fact authority of someone who believes his opinion came from an expert on the subject of blowing up buildings, and not a teenager with google.

Jon inwardly groaned, realizing what they were talking about. He'd hoped that he might last longer in this town. To the class however, he could at least keep up his airs for now, and hopefully stem any investigation into his history for a little while yet. 

"Please, no more questions about exploding buildings. Any one else, _other_ than Aaron?"

Someone to the side of Aaron raised their hand.

"Have you ever lived in London before?"

Finally, a safe, easy question, and only 30 more minutes of class, hopefully it would go quick. "Yes, I lived in London for a long time before I made my way here."

A small gasp echoed from the cluster around Marcy, then a hand tentatively rose.

A slight hesitation as Jon looked for other raised hands. Nothing.

"Yes Johanna?"

"It's Jo, actually, and also, have you ever worked at a research institute?" The girls smile was one of a satisfied hound after a hunt, eerily reminding Jon of the Hunt.

The similarity was at the back of his mind, however. It seemed he was screwed. 

"I- Yes, yes I did."

The same hand rose.

"Was it called the Magnus Institute?"

Jon sighed, defeated. "Yes. Yes it was, is in fact."

A triumphant shout came from her, as she turned to Marcy's table.

"I told you! HA! I was right! I knew he looked like the dude in the photo!"

Marcy seemed to sulk, before popping back up in retort.

"Yeah well I was the one who found the photo in the first place!"

Another voice piped up from her left.

"Well I was the one who remembered his name from my podcast!" 

That last comment seemed to be contentious, sparking an argument between all three, first about who remembered what, then who had decided to ask, then Aaron joined in arguing that he was the one who had worked up the courage to ask, and on until nearly half the room was arguing, and the other half was taking the opportunity to either film the chaos or scroll their phones. The chaos unfolded before a befuddled Jon, so taken aback by the chaos that he couldn't help but to sit there at his desk.

In the back of his mind, Jon vaguely knew that they would tire themselves out soon, and return to their subject of inspection; him. He took a long swig of his tea, welcoming the chance to get his mind back into order, only slightly thrown off by the sight of a student t posing on their desk.

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far I assume you liked it, and I might or might not continue updating this in a week or so. I don't have any plans for how long this might be if I do continue so yea.


End file.
